


To Make Love

by JessaLRynn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel/Dean Winchester One Shot, Ficlet, M/M, Romance, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 01:45:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7957483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessaLRynn/pseuds/JessaLRynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They don't have sex...</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Make Love

**Author's Note:**

> When I first wrote this, I thought it was a part of a larger work. But earlier this month, I took a few precious hours to start cleaning out some folders, and I got to this. I thought at the time that I should probably post it, exactly as it is, and now, now I'm sure.
> 
> To me, this will always be Destiel, and this is definitely how it feels in me. But for you, it may be some other pairing better and I'm willing to accept that. Let me know what you think, I'm really curious.

They don't have sex. They sleep together, long limbs splayed and entangled with each other as they huddle like kittens in the middle of a bed they can't help but share. They kiss late into the nights, sometimes falling into their dreams with their lips pressed together, only to drift awake and back into the indulgence in the same airy, rarified way, morning breath and beards no deterrent, maybe even encouragement, being so human.

What they have, what they are, everything they have become together through the fires of hell and the sorrows of mirthless heaven, is love. Every move they make together, with weapons and brother locked and loaded at their sides, is love. Every quiet moment in diners and hotel rooms and fields out under the stars, the two of them and all they both value in the world there with them, is love. 

Their souls are bonded, paired, mated, not by destiny but by decision, not by chance but by choice, not by fate, but by free will. Bitter and broken and beautiful with their scars, they are fallen and risen together and risen beyond.

And when they are alone, they explore, they caress, they tremble. There are a dozen dozen different words for their kind of intimacy of being, but one of the pair fears labels more than hell itself, and the other doesn't understand how labels could possibly be important. They don't need words, not anymore. There's nothing left that they haven't said, in actions more honest than any words they've ever known between them.

They are together, learning with every touch and sound and taste something new on a journey neither of them has dared to imagine taking. On mornings when they wake up affected, and nights when their intimacy of thought spills over into a longing for intimacy of deed, they move together, bare to one another from the souls out. They live together like lovers do, like new-flown innocence and temporary lives born of star light. 

Everything in their lives - millenia in the planning and execution - may not have been meant to lead them to this, to a love story so vast it has shaken all creation. But it is what they have, and it is what they want. For years they’ve been coming to this, to together, to their true selves. They make what they have been building all along. They make love.


End file.
